


Morrissey Reblogs Memes.

by flowercrownclem



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tumblr, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownclem/pseuds/flowercrownclem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern day tumblr au. Johnny finds Morrissey's blog and immediately fals for the weird, meme-posting music nerd.<br/>*Don't agree to meet strangers from the internet though cause like maybe they're Morrissey but also they could be an ax murderer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love At First Like

Johnny Marr, or 0ut-in-the-streets, was not by any means tumblr famous. He had some 50 followers, but had a number of dear mutuals. His blog was full of random things he liked but was most easily classified as a rockabilly blog. There were pictures of well-sculpted quiffs and audio posts of songs he liked (mostly rock and roll and pop music from long before he was born).  
One day, scrolling through tumblr on mobile, procrastinating when he should have been writing some essay for English, he saw that he'd been tagged by a mutual in a reblogged post. Said post seemed to be a rant, littered with photos of Sandie Shaw and the Marvellettes. As he read he found that it was a long winded rant in defense of 60's girl pop, one of his favorite things in the world. The writer defiantly declared the music "kick-ass" and dared anyone to disagree with them. Johnny grinned as he read many of the same claims he'd made to his own friends time and time again.  
After reblogging the post he clicked through the url borrowed-sins, to the author's blog. He was met with a mismatch of instagram-filtered pictures of flowers, stills from old movies, lines of poetry, and, oddly, the occasional meme. Johnny nearly laughed out loud at seeing Pepe the crying frog nestled between an Oscar Wilde quote and a picture of James Dean. He quickly scrolled through then, searching for a selfie. He wanted to know who this strange blogger was.  
Finally, he found it. A grainy black and white picture of an attractive boy in sunglasses with the caption "Here's a piccy of me trying to look as though I'm auditioning for a part in a 50's B-movie. Why do I bother?"  
Johnny smiled widely, his cheeks turning pink at the admittedly adorable phrasing (and boy). He automatically liked the post before realising that he'd already liked half the posts he'd scrolled through and the boy's feed would be clogged with him. He restrained himself from adding to it again and scrolled up to the top again to click on the boy's description.  
"Steven. 18. Miserable in Manchester.  
I do very little but listen to music and watch films. I'm bisexual, just like James Dean. Pretty hip, huh?"  
Johnny snorted, feeling that the boy probably had to stop himself from adding a winky face after the last bit. However, the boy lived in the same town as him, was within acceptable age range for the 16 year old, and was bisexual.  
There was hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully if people like this I'll write more but either way I probably will because I like this.  
> *the text on Morrissey's picture is taken from an actual picture so I didn't write that.  
> *also I checked and I don't think the urls I used are in use but if I accidentally stole your url just let me know


	2. Kiss My Shades

"Johnny, stop stalking that guy's tumblr. It's creepy," Andy Rourke complained during their lunch period the next day. "Those guys on that catfish show are going to show up and arrest you or something soon."  
"I'm pretty sure that's not actually what happens on that show," Mike Joyce, Andy's boyfriend pointed out.  
"Yeah, whatever, I've never seen it. Either way, Johnny needs to put down his phone and enjoy this beautiful day and his even more beautiful company."  
"But...Andy look at him!" Johnny thrust his phone in Andy's face, displaying the picture of his tumblr crush.  
"Yep, pretty average, kinda nerdy. Must be if he's following you."  
"What??" Johnny snatched the phone back to see that yes, a notification had popped up that borrowed-sins was now following him. He felt his heart beating faster as blood rushed to his face. "He followed me! Guys, he followed me!!"  
"Gathered that," Andy smirked.  
Johnny quickly went to officially follow the boy back, grinning.  
"What do I do now??" he panicked.  
"I dunno, tell him you want to have his internet babies?" Andy suggested.  
"Tell him you like his blog or something. Send him a cute anon, I dunno," Mike shrugged.  
"Andy, fuck you. Mike, Andy doesn't deserve you. See ya later," Johnny got up as the bell rang, gathering his things before going to class.  
After school Johnny sat at his computer, trying to compose the perfect message to borrowed-sins. Finally, the best he could come up with was:  
_I love your blog. Girl pop kicks ass! :)_  
It wasn't much but it was something. He hovered the mouse over the send button, quickly hitting anonymous before sending it. He sat back, suddenly rethinking every decision he'd ever made in his life. Then, he refreshed the other boy's blog, waiting for a response.

~Morrissey's pov~  
Steven was sitting on his bed, curled around a laptop and watching Valley of the Dolls on YouTube when one of the other tabs he had open flashed. He had a message on tumblr.  
He hasn't gotten a message in a while, usually just got the occasional response to some text post he'd written either in argument or agreement. This one was a simple note from an anon and Steven smiled. Judging by the flow of likes and reblogs he'd received the past few days he had a guess at who it was from. He typed up a short response, posting it and smirking:  
_thnx ur cute_  
Just as he was starting his movie back up, he got a reply, still on anon:  
_it's the sunglasses, right?_  
Steven grinned, writing back:  
_definitely. they're quite fetching_.  
Next came a message off of anon, from 0ut-in-the-streets:  
_Really? :)_  
Steven was quick to reply:  
_Oh, im sorry but I don't think we've been introduced. I was just having a lovely chat with an anon before u so rudely interrupted_.  
He laughed when he saw the next message:  
_Kiss my shades, flower boy B)_


	3. Be My Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're nerds but they're super cute.

_r u still in high school?_

Johnny sent one night, during a long quickfire exchange of questions and answers. He and Steven had been messaging back and forth for nearly a week.

_I go 2 stretford tech sometimes_

Johnny replied back:

_I’m over at st john plessington_

This time there was a few minutes before he got a message back:

_Sorry I just got some new records and I got distracted. Here, listen to this!_

There was a link included that lead him to a blurry YouTube video of the Ronettes performing “Be My Baby.” Johnny listened to it for a second before closing his eyes and nodding along to the beat. As the song came to an end he grabbed his guitar and opened a new tab, grinning.

...

 

Steven flipped the record on his turntable before checking his computer for the umpteenth time. He’d sent Johnny a link to the song he was listening to more than an hour before and he hadn’t gotten any response yet. He was silently freaking out, wondering if he’d written the wrong thing, or sent the wrong song.

Did Johnny take the song as the flirting that it was? He could always brush it off and say that he just thought Johnny’d like the song (which was at least 15% of the reason he’d sent it), but they’d been doing what Steven assumed was flirting for days now. Was he really that bad at doing anything involving romance? He flopped back onto his bed, pulling a pillow over his head and listening to his new 45 rotating on the record player.

When he woke up the next morning the first thing he did was check his computer, his hopes very low. However, he did have a notification from tumblr. Rather than a message, it said that he’d been tagged in a post. When he clicked through it he found a post by 0ut-in-the-streets, a video with his url as the only description. Steven hit the little speaker icon to hear the video.

As the video started, he saw a boy matching the selfies on Johnny’s blog sitting on a messy, unmade bed, holding a guitar across his lap and smirking nervously. There was a small amp next to him and he wrapped his fingers around the neck of the guitar, starting to play.

Slow, melancholy chords poured out of Steven’s speakers as the boy’s fingers flew deftly across the instrument, a jangly, decorated version of “Be My Baby” manifesting. It sounded different played by a lonely guitar, more soulful and very sincere as Johnny hummed along where the words would be. Steven could see a dark window behind Johnny and wondered when he’d recorded this- how late he’d stayed up learning how to play the song and adding in his own flare.

As his version of the song finished, Johnny looked up into the camera just long enough to send a wink that made Steven’s heart feel as though it’d stopped.

Before going off to school he sent Johnny a simple message:

_Be my baby? ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait in between updates, but this chapter is way longer than the others so at least there's more of it?

“Steven, honey, come on and get dressed. We need to head out soon,” Betty Dwyer called up to her son’s room.

“I know, Mum. Come on, let’s go,” Steven replied from just behind her, fully dressed and biting into an apple.

“Oh, you’re up. Jesus, you startled me,” she told him, clutching her chest.

“Sorry, Mum,” he grinned, kissing her cheek. “Can we go?”

“Eager, are we?” she laughed. “They’re just records, you know. And you’ve got a million already.”

“And I could have a million more by now if we’d left earlier,” he quipped.

“Alright, alright, let’s go.” The pair climbed into her car and set off to Wythenshawe, about half an hour’s drive south. There was reportedly an expansive record store there that held stacks of rare LPs and 45’s and Steven had wanted to visit it ever since he’d read about it. His mother had agreed to drive him to celebrate the start of the summer vacation.

Forty-five minutes and a few traffic jams later they stood outside of a narrow shop with a sign hanging above the door that read “Joyce’s Records.” Steven carefully pulled open the glass door and was positively beaming as he looked across the shop. Although the shop didn’t look that impressive from the outside, the interior spanned what seemed like miles back, shelves and shelves of records making the walkways very narrow. He immediately dove in, flipping through a row of 45’s.

“Mum! Look!” Steven held up a Crystals record with a boy riding a motorcycle across the front. He quickly slipped the vinyl out of the sleeve and inspected the label carefully.

“That’s very nice, honey,” Betty said fondly, watching him with amusement in her eyes.

“No but look it’s an original! It’s an American pressing!” He held it closer to her face, his eyes wide with excitement. “Did you know the Crystals didn’t even sing on this? They were on tour so the Blossoms recorded it instead.”

“That’s very interesting,” she laughed, “but I think I’m going to let you look around here on your own. If you need me I’ll be in one of the shops down the road, okay?”

“Mhmm...” he mumbled distractedly, already turning to another shelf with the Crystals/Blossoms record in hand. She smiled fondly and left him to his browsing.

Steven felt overwhelmed by his surroundings, finding it difficult to focus on one shelf at a time. He leapt from one to another, flipping through the first few sleeves before getting distracted by another out of the corner of his eye. Soon enough, he was nearly at the other end of the store.

“Do you want me to hold those up here for you while you shop?” came a voice from behind him. Steven glanced at the counter where a dark haired boy was leaning, an amused smirk on his face.

“Hmm? Oh, sure.” Steven quickly handed over the small stack of records in his hands and turned back to the shelf of LPs. He could feel the boy still looking at him. He let himself think back to the apparent cashier for a moment, thinking that the boy looked vaguely familiar. However, he was immediately distracted by a punk compilation and as he searched through the shelf of records everything else faded away.

...

Johnny was all set for another uneventful day, helping out at Mike’s uncle’s shop for the summer. He spent the morning playing different records over the store’s speakers and playing along with some of them on his guitar. Then, just an hour after opening, in walked the first customers of the day, a woman and who Johnny assumed was her son.

Johnny sat at the counter towards the back of the store and silently watched them. He could hear their words, drifting across the store, and he grinned at how excited the boy was getting about the store. He remembered the first time Mike had brought him there, nearly knocking over half the stacks as he rushed through, jumping between shelves.

When the woman left the boy kept moving closer to the back of the store and as he got closer Johnny was able to get a better look at him.

His breath seemed to catch in his throat as he took in the clear blue eyes and button nose of the boy across from him, who didn’t seem to have noticed there was another person even in the store yet. The boy’s features seemed awfully familiar to a certain internet-using music nerd he knew of. Johnny couldn’t help his smile as he watched the boy flick through records.

When Johnny took the boy’s selections for him he couldn’t help but smirk as he realised that the other boy was so immersed in his search that he had barely glanced at Johnny, no recognition in his eyes.

Johnny sat back behind the counter, looking at the records the boy’d chosen. Each one seemed incredibly in character, full of 60’s girl pop and few others that should have seemed out of place but fit perfectly. Johnny continued watching his customer.

...

“That’ll be 40 quid,” the cashier told him when Steven had finally made all of his selections for the day.

Steven handed over the money and looked over the counter at the other boy with a smile. He finally got a good look at him, examining his chocolate brown eyes and shaggy black fringe. Steven still couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen the boy somewhere before when suddenly his heart skipped a beat.

Johnny’s grin widened as he watched the look that crossed Steven’s face.

“Hello, love,” Johnny greeted him, leaning forward on his elbows.

“But- but I...” Steven sputtered, his eyes wide. “You work here?”

“For the summer, yeah.”

“I... I- hi.”

“Hello,” Johnny repeated. “Good choices, by the way,” he gestured to the bag of records.

“Thank you,” Steven blushed. “Um, good store. Nice store, I mean. It’s... good.”

“I know, right? My friend’s uncle owns it. It’s marvelous.”

“It is,” Steven said, longingly, “I wish I could live here.”

“You could always come back in,” Johnny suggested, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I don’t think my mum would want to drive me down here as much as I’d want her to.”

“Well, you could always let me know which records to look out for and if we get them in I could bring them to you,” Johnny told him.

“We could do that,” Steven agreed, smiling.

“You know, meet halfway in between and all that,” Johnny grinned.

“That would be good.” They both sat there, smiling at each other across the counter when suddenly Steven asked nervously, “Could I, um, have your phone number? You know, so that it’ll be easier to-”

“Already wrote it on your receipt,” Johnny told him, handing over the brown paper bag of records, “It’s in here.”

Steven thanked him and took the bag, smiling as he went to find his mother.

Johnny couldn’t believe that he’d actually met Steven in person, or that he seemed to be everything he had hoped he’d be. When his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, there was a new text from an unknown number.

 _Do you happen to have any lesley gore records in?_ :)


	5. Chapter 5

Johnny sat, nervously clutching a parcel of records under the shady overhang at the bus stop. By his calculations this stop was exactly halfway between Mr. Joyce’s shop and Steven’s house and the other boy’s bus was scheduled to arrive any minute. The two had been texting back and forth nonstop since their encounter in the record store and had eagerly planned their next meeting.

When a bus stopped in front of Johnny’s bench he quickly reached up to fix his hair and straighten his sunglasses. The doors opened with a fast rush of air and Johnny caught sight of a red sweater and dark hair, a soft “thank you” carrying through the air as the other boy passed the driver.

Johnny’s breath seemed to catch in his throat as he watched the boy step down onto the pavement. He still couldn’t really believe that this boy was real, that he wasn’t just some cruel joke or a figment of his imagination. He found himself staring, noticing that the red in his cardigan contrasted the blue in Steven’s eyes, making them shine behind his thick spectacles.

“Are you okay?” Steven asked, breaking Johnny out of his appraisal with a tentative smile.

“Yeah, I’m just... happy,” Johnny beamed.

“Well good, I’m glad.” Steven stepped forward, joining him under the overhang.

“Here,” Johnny held out the package. “These are for you. Not exactly a bouquet of roses but we had ‘Chelsea Girl’ in the back.”

Steven looked delighted as he pulled the paper back to see which records Johnny had brought him.

“I’m sure these will suffice,” he said merrily. “Besides, I don’t much care for roses- I prefer gladiolas. Or bouquets of vinyl.”

“Good to know,” Johnny told him. “Now, I’ve delivered your goods- in the middle of the day like any drug dealer should- and the next bus doesn’t come for another forty-five minutes. So, I guess you’re stuck with me for the time being.”

“Oh dear,” Steven feigned disappointment, “I was hoping to just grab the vinyl and go. Make a clean get away, you know.”

“I knew you only liked me for the vinyl!”

“Who said I liked you?” Steven asked.

“Who brought you an entire stack of beautiful mint-condition records and has yet to mention reimbursement?” Johnny teased.

“That’s true. How much do I owe you?”

“It depends,” Johnny replied, fluttering his eyelashes behind lowered sunglasses, “What are you willing to pay?”

Steven snorted, “I’m sorry but I am not going to turn into some kind of rent boy in exchange for records.”

“My dear I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Johnny beamed innocently. “How about you buy me a milkshake and we call it even?”

“A milkshake?” Steven asked incredulously.

“Chocolate, please. I’ll even split it with you.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a date,” Steven pointed out, smirking.

“Maybe that’s part of the deal.”

...

Fifteen minutes later they were sat side by side in a red plastic booth, a well deserved chocolate milkshake with two straws between them on the table. They had walked into the first restaurant they saw, a chain diner full of fluorescent lighting and elderly patrons. The place was vacant enough that the two boys were able to take a wide corner booth to themselves, although they wasted the space by crowding close together.

“Thank you for the milkshake,” Johnny chirped, pecking Steven on the cheek with now cold lips.

“Thank you for the records,” Steven replied, trying and failing to hide his blush.

“I hope you like them. If there’s any that you already have just let me know and I can switch them for different ones. I only know you’ve got ‘Be My Baby’ on vinyl.”

“You’re good at guitar,” Steven blurted, ever the eloquent speaker. “I mean, when you played the song. It was... good.”

“Thank you,” Johnny chuckled, “I try. My mates and I have been trying to start a band.”

“Oh, do you write songs? Or do you just do covers?”

“So far we’ve just played a few covers but I’ve written some parts. I can’t write lyrics for shit though.”

“I write,” Steven told him shyly.

“You do?” Johnny asked, “Do you sing? We haven’t got a singer.”

“I guess, I mean I don’t know if I’m any good.”

“Trust me, I know _we_ aren’t. We could be, though. I think we could be great,” Johnny smiled fondly.

“I think we could be really great,” he repeated, his eyes locking with Steven’s as their fingers intertwined under the table.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will probably be one more chapter as sort of an epilogue because this seems to end too abruptly.  
> By the way they're just kind of in a Denny's.  
> Because nothing will ever beat the romantic atmosphere of a Denny's.  
> Also this would be before they went vegan.


	6. Problematic Fave (Morrissey Has A Flip-Phone)

By the time Steven got back home from his date with Johnny his mother was calling him in for dinner. He spent the meal smiling secretively towards his plate, moving the quickly cooling food around with his fork. Betty tried to ask her son about his day but any answer she got was vague and distracted. Either way, he seemed happy so she gave up.

Once he’d eaten an adequate amount, Steven eagerly retreated to his bedroom to check his phone for any new texts from Johnny. However, when he opened up his ancient flip phone, he had no new notifications. Disappointed, he turned instead to his laptop, opening tumblr.

His eye caught on the little envelope symbol at the top right hand of the page, lit up with a small white “2.” Steven felt a small jolt of excitement and curiosity, wondering what sort of message he’d received. When he clicked through he found the promised two messages from an anon, reading:

_i think i like you_

_like really really like you_

Steven’s heart seemed to flutter in his chest, a dull ache behind his ribcage as a wide smile broke across his face. He quickly found Johnny’s blog and sent him a message on anon.

_i may or may not really really like you too_

Within moments his phone started to sound out. He grabbed it and flipped it open, asking “Hello?”

“You know those things are supposed to be anonymous.”

“You’re not very good at anonymous,” Steven told Johnny wryly.

“And you’re not very decisive,” Johnny replied. “Do you or don’t you?”

“Don’t I what?” Steven teased.

“Declare your undying love for me,” Johnny reminded him.

“Oh, that one! It depends, have you found any more evidence to support your own theory?”

“I’m finding it all the time,” Johnny told him, a smile in his voice. After a moment of fond silence Johnny commanded, “Come outside.”

“What?” Steven asked, taken aback.

“Come outside,” the younger boy repeated.

“Are you... here?” Steven tried to look out his bedroom window to the street below but the angle was wrong.

Rather than reply, Johnny hung up the phone. Steven rushed downstairs, pulling open the front door. He felt more confusion as he looked around at the empty space in front of his home. He stepped out onto the sidewalk cautiously, looking for any sign of Johnny.

Suddenly, a pair of arms grabbed him from behind and he was being pulled to the side of a very amused Johnny.

“What are you doing here?” Steven exclaimed.

“Shh,” Johnny silenced him, going so far as to put a finger against Steven’s lips. “Have you decided?”

“What?” Steven tried to ask around Johnny’s hand.

“Have you decided? Y’know... If you like me.”

Steven’s smile spread under Johnny’s finger which he promptly pulled away in exchange for Johnny’s own lips. He held the back of Johnny’s neck, pulling him in for a short kiss. When he went to pull away, Johnny wrapped his arms back around Steven’s waist, bringing him close again and deepening the kiss.

When Steven returned to his room what felt like hours later he felt giddy and weightless. He flopped back onto his bed, his fingers ghosting over his now sore lips, pulling into a dazed smile. Beside him, his phone let out a short sound. He pulled it open to read a new text from Johnny, reading

_you never did give me a straight answer, you problematic fave_

Steven let out a soft laugh, typing out a reply.

 _yeah but im YOUR problematic fave_ ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! I hope you liked it :)


End file.
